One Difference: Hyde Goes to Kelso's Ice Shack
by MistyMountainHop
Summary: Kelso plans to get Jackie back by taking her to his uncle's "fabulous" cabin in the woods. He has everything in place—the right lie, the right couple to emulate—but an unexpected variable threatens to dismantle his scheme: Steven Hyde.
1. Part I

**Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show _copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

ONE DIFFERENCE:  
**HYDE GOES TO KELSO'S ICE SHACK**

**Part I**

Hyde stuffed a bagel spread with peanut butter into his coat pocket. Breakfast. He had the morning shift at the Fotohut ahead of him, not to mention a cold walk—from place he couldn't quite call home. Bud's apartment, where generic-brand food filled the open kitchen and cockroaches lived in the baseboards. Hyde stomped on one of the critters now, another squashed corpse.

The oak flooring was dotted with black spots. Scraping them off would be a waste of time. He needed to hire an exterminator, but that cost dough he didn't have. At least the apartment had heat in the winter … heat, but no warmth, just like his mind. It was branded with the mark of Jackie's kiss. The shape of her mouth had seared his thoughts. Each day, the memory of her lips, their softness, their insistence burned holes in his brain.

One kiss, man, had done him in.

The living room walls rattled with Bud's heavy snoring. He'd come back late last night and crashed on the couch. Hyde crept past him but considered slamming the front door on his way out. Betting slips from Kenosha OTB lay ripped on the floor. They confirmed a suspicion Hyde had kept to himself for weeks: the man he couldn't quite call "Dad" had a gambling addiction.

Hyde let Bud continue to sleep. Dealing with this crap would have to wait. He closed the front door quietly, but his descent to the lobby echoed in the stairwells. His boots stomped down forty-two stairs, all but one representing Bud's lying face. The last he saved for Jackie, wishing like hell he could smash her out of his skull.

Outside, mottled chunks of snow lined the sidewalks. Most had melted during the last few days, and car exhaust had blanketed the rest. Hyde headed east on Pine Street. The Fotohut was a good twenty minutes away. He could've taken the bus, but he'd never been a bus kind of guy. Being stuck in a tin can with screaming kids and nose-picking slobs? Not for him.

He passed by the losers waiting at the nearest stop. Old men mingled with slump-shouldered women while middle-schoolers played tag. He was almost free of the scene when someone jumped out at him. Hands gripped his shoulders, but he shoved his palms into his attacker's chest, sending the guy backward.

"Ai!" The attacker didn't approach again, and Hyde got a chance to look at him.

"Shit—Fez? What're you doing, man?"

Fez rubbed his chest where Hyde had struck him. "Kelso has a master plan, and we have to hurry!"

"Kelso has a master-what?"

"A master _plan. _Don't you understand English?" Fez stepped closer. He had on a backpack, a corduroy jacket, and a thick cotton shirt was layered over a red turtleneck. He was dressed for temperatures colder than the weather report indicated. "I called Jackie yesterday for some late-night chit-chat, and apparently Kelso has invited 'all of us' to his uncle's fabulous cabin in the woods." He reached out to grab Hyde's coat then seemed to change his mind. He grasped the straps of his own backpack instead. "It has a hot tub, Hyde. A hot tub!"

"So?" Hyde had to get to work, not that Leo would care if he were late. But working kept his mind from rabbit holes it couldn't clamber out of, like the one it was falling into now. "Wait a sec—what do you mean Kelso 'invited all of us'?"

Fez nodded. "That's what I'm saying! He did _not _invite all of us. He's tricked Jackie into joining him on a romantic getaway—a romantic getaway she does not want to be part of!"

Hyde rubbed the nape of his neck until it burned. The idea of Jackie trapped with Kelso in some cabin set him on edge, but maybe that was where she wanted to be. Pursuing Hyde had merely been a distraction for her. They'd exchanged two words in as many months with each other. She'd made his life hell then left him there to boil. To her, their kiss might as well have been vapor.

"She can fend for herself," he said and started down Pine Street again, but Fez grabbed ahold of his arm. "Fez, you got two seconds to let me go—"

"No, you must come with me. We have to stop Kelso's foul deed."

"Every time she breaks up with him, she takes him back. Why should this time be any different?"

"She's confused and vulnerable." Fez tugged on Hyde's arm. "We must go this way if we're going to intersect his van."

"Look, man, if you wanna get tangled up in all that..." Hyde tore himself free of Fez's grip, "be my guest. But she'll roll you like a pair of dice then kick you into the gutter once the game's over."

"Oh, how I'd love to be kicked by her glorious foot, but you have not spoken to her lately. Yes, she is a spoiled and whiny princess, but she also believes she must settle for a deceptive, cheating court jester."

_Jackie cornered by Kelso, emotionally, physically … _Hyde shut his eyes against a sinking sensation. He tried to rally his mind to rebel, but it had already gone rogue. It spat out a confession he'd spent months suppressing.

_He was in love with her._

But he didn't do love. That was his motto, and he opened his eyes. Despite her previous behavior and declarations, she felt nothing for him. Interfering in her business would get him exactly that—nothing.

"Cabin's in the woods?" he said.

"Yes," Fez said.

Hyde glanced down at his plaid wool coat. Underneath it, he had on only a cotton shirt. "I gotta get a sweater—"

"There's no time—wait. Does this mean you're going with me?"

"Yeah, but only as an observer."

"Great. Let's go!"

Fez raced west on Pine Street, but Hyde followed him at a slower pace. "I gotta call Leo," he said, "and tell him I'm taking a sick day—"

"We'll make Kelso pull over, and you can use a payphone. First we have to catch the magnificent bastard."

"Right."

Hyde quickened his pace, and on Pickett Avenue, he and Fez spotted Kelso's dented, 1965 Dodge A-100. The van was moving at a decent clip, but traffic kept them from losing it. Hyde's chest hurt from running, and Fez gasped beside him, but after speeding through five green lights, the van got held up by a sixth on Hazen Street.

"The back, man. The back!" Hyde pointed to the gap left by the van's missing back door. Kelso had covered it with a plastic tarp, but it provided easy access. Hyde and Fez squeezed in front of a mustard-yellow Ford Capri, pushed the plastic tarp aside, and climbed onto the van.

Fez charged to the front while Hyde stayed behind, catching his breath and assessing the situation. Kelso was at the wheel, and Donna and Forman were with him. Their presence here made some sense. They were Kelso's safety net, only this net was designed for trapping Jackie.

"What are you doing?" Fez shouted at Kelso. "We chased you for six blocks!"

Hyde approached the front slowly as Kelso said, "I'm sorry, buddy. I didn't see you."

"Yeah, nice try." Fez's chest visibly rose and fell with his panting breath. He needed a rest, but he probably wouldn't take one until Kelso admitted the truth. "We know all about your master plan. Now drive, you sneaky sonuvabitch!"

Forman glanced over his shoulder at Hyde, but Hyde merely shrugged. His motive for being here was private. Playing poker involved a lot of bluffing, and the player with the best hand wouldn't necessarily win the pot. He didn't expect to win anything for himself today. He was playing for Jackie, to keep her from ending up with someone like Bud.

* * *

Two outfits lay on Jackie's bed. The first was too sexy for winter, and the second was cute but utterly casual—_aloof _one might call it. Neither was particularly appropriate for the cold woods, but she refused to hide her body in a thick sweater. Both outfits called attention to themselves, and she very much desired attention today.

If she wore her long-sleeved but short-skirted dress, she could show off her legs in a pair of knee-high boots. Michael would be all over her, a boost for her ego but exhausting. Just the idea of being touched by him sent ripples of disgust over her skin. He didn't truly want her back. Otherwise, he would've become celibate instead of dating Laurie, the woman he'd cheated on her with. Jackie had no intentions of becoming his mistress. Or, worse, one of _many_ mistresses.

That last thought made her shudder. No, Michael wasn't her target. She needed to draw another pair of eyes to herself: Steven Hyde's. He would be on this trip, and she intended to seize the opportunity. They'd barely spoken to each other since their date, but she understood why. It was a consequence of their kiss.

His lips and tongue had set her body on fire that night but not her heart. She'd expected to be swept away to a magical place, one where she was a princess and Steven was her beer-swilling knight. But the kiss stirred no emotion in her. Absolutely none … until a few days later. She awoke in her bed with a distinct tingling at the corners of her mouth. Her first consciously inhaled breath had entered shakily, and her blood throbbed in every corner of her body.

That morning, Steven had shared the bed with her. Not physically, not actually, but her latent emotions had conjured up a sense of him. She gripped her pillow as pressure built behind her eyes. He'd protected her, taught her how to protect herself, run gentle fingers through her hair. His face had a playfulness she could stare at endlessly, but he felt nothing for her, not personally.

Her chest tightened now the same as it had then. That morning had been the first of a frustrating many. He was no longer a knight but simply _Steven. _Her feelings for him were gritty, like dirt beneath her otherwise pristine fingernails. No matter how she washed her hands, her nails were stained.

"This outfit, definitely," she said and held up a button-down fleece shirt. Its blue-gray color would pair nicely with her red, floppy turtleneck. The outfit was warmer than the first, and it wouldn't send any unintended messages. If Michael wanted her body, he'd have to prove himself worthy of her heart.

Her breath hitched as an idea burst into her brain. Perhaps Michael's intention today was to sweep her off her feet. Maybe he'd finally dumped Laurie and wanted to make a grand gesture. Jackie twirled toward her vanity, with her red turtleneck pressed against her body. Michael was sure to proclaim his love for her on this trip, surrounded by a winter wonderland and all their friends.

Including Steven.

Would he care if she took Michael back? Probably not. Would he care what outfit she wore? Unlikely. Anything she tried to communicate visually would fall on blind eyes. Michael was her best chance at happiness, as flawed as he was. All he had to do was change himself completely.

She got dressed in front of her vanity mirror. The jeans she wore hugged her body perhaps a little too well, and a vision invaded her senses. Steven's hands slid over her butt. They were imaginary, yet her body responded as if his physical presence were real. The warmth of his palms, the intensity of his eyes, caused her to sweat.

"Not now," she whispered. "Not him." She forced Michael to take his place in the vision, and grief overwhelmed her. Michael's betrayal remained submerged in her blood, despite the months that had passed. Maybe it would always be there, circulating.

Twenty minutes later, after her makeup was perfectly applied, Michael's van arrived. He was later than she'd anticipated. He'd probably stopped to play with some stray dogs, but that had given her time. She'd needed to remove all traces of tears from her face. Downstairs, she put on her white ski jacket with its ice-blue chevron pattern. Her mother kissed her on the forehead and told her to have fun, but fun was not on Jackie's agenda.

Outside on the driveway, Michael and Fez were shoving each other. They stopped once her footsteps crunched on the gravel. "Your coach has arrived," Michael said and extended his hand toward her.

Fez slapped his hand away. "It's a rusty old van, not a coach, you idiot!"

"My van is an elegant lady on wheels! Now apologize."

"Jackie," Fez said, ignoring him, "may I escort you onto Kelso's rusty old van?"

He offered her his arm like a gentleman, and she took it. Then he opened the van's side door, and her throat thickened. Inside, Steven was playing cards with Donna and Eric. His lips lifted into a smirk as he revealed his hand. "Read 'em and weep, losers. I got a pair of threes, Jack high."

"Damn it!" Eric said. "I could've sworn you had something better." He picked up his face-down cards and stared at them. "I had two pair."

"Shouldn't have folded, Forman." Steven took Eric and Donna's cards and mixed them back into the deck. "Better luck next time."

Jackie used Fez's arm as a support as she stepped into the van. He shut the door behind them, and she said, "Hello, everyone. Your reason for waking up in the morning has arrived."

"Hi, Jackie," Donna said. "You might want to know—"

"No," Eric grasped Donna's hands, "the only thing she has to know is that _you're_ my reason for waking up in the morning."

"Thank you, sweetheart." Donna pecked Eric on the lips, and Jackie scrunched her face. _Sweetheart? _The word sounded foreign coming from Donna's mouth. "But, Jackie," she said, "Kelso has—"

"Gotten into the driver's seat!" Michael started up the van and blasted the radio. "All right, let's get this trip started! Jackie, wanna join me up front?"

Jackie peered down at Steven, but his gaze remained on the deck of cards. His scruffy curls obscured his face. His legs were stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. He was as relaxed as a boy could be and infuriatingly unaffected by her presence.

"Hello, Steven," she said but didn't wait for a response. She went to the front of the van with Fez, who sat on the hump between the driver's and passenger seat. "Thank you, Fez."

Michael turned down the radio. "What're you thanking him for?"

"Being _nice._" Jackie sat in the passenger seat and crossed her arms over her chest. An ache was hollowing out her heart. She pressed her knees together, too, to crush the growing need between her thighs. Steven's proximity was having an unsettling effect on her. "So, Michael, how long is this trip going to take?"

"About an hour-and-a-half, so sit back, relax, and soon we'll be in my uncle's luxurious cabin—and you'll be thanking _me._"

"It better be luxurious," she said.

He grinned at her. "Oh, it is." Then he drove them off her family's property.

Both Michael and Fez tried to capture her attention once they were on the highway. They played a game where they called out adjectives describing her. Each word had to start with the last letter of the one before it. So after Michael said, "Beautiful!" Fez said, "Lovely!" and Michael said, "Yummy." Then Fez said, "_Yottotekex,_" which apparently meant "sweet laughter" in his native tongue.

"Hey, no fair!" Michael said. "That's two words!"

"Not in my language," Fez said. "It's not my fault your language is so inefficient."

"Well, what am I supposed to say for X?"

"In my language," Fez reached for Jackie's hand, and she let him take it, "I have many words to describe Jackie that start with the letter X."

"Like Kelso's _ex_-girlfriend?" Steven said, and Jackie flung Fez's hand away from her. Steven had crept to the front without her noticing.

"No, that word starts with J," Fez said.

Jackie's chair pushed into her slightly as Steven laughed. His weight was pressed into the back of her seat, but she kept her gaze on the windshield, on the cars driving ahead of them."'J' for Jackie," he said. "So the word for 'ex-girlfriend' in your language is the name of _Kelso's_ ex-girlfriend. Works out nicely."

Michael responded with something she didn't quite register. Blood was roaring in her ears, incited by a furious pulse. The urge to peer back at Steven was growing. Her eyes could take only so much gray highway. The spots of color cars added weren't enough to distract her.

"Then maybe you should play this game about your _actual_ girlfriend," Steven said, clearly reply to whatever Michael had said.

"No, you shouldn't!" Eric shouted from the back. "Leave my sister out of this."

Jackie finally turned her head but toward Michael. "Yes, how _is _your 'relationship' with Laurie these days? Whorey as usual?"

Steven shifted his position. His weight disappeared from her back, but his fingers slid over the top of her chair. They had the barest contact with her shoulders, but her stomach became jumpy, as if her cheer squad were holding practice there.

"Today's not about Laurie," Michael said. "She's, like, ancient history."

"Yeah, real ancient," Steven said. "Had to leave the basement on Wednesday night 'cause you were slobbering all over her."

"Wha—but that was three days ago! A lot can happen in three days, _Hyde._"

"You were sloppy-kissing Laurie?" Jackie struck Michael's arm, and the van swerved slightly. Sloppy kisses were the worst kind of kisses, and Michael was an expert at them.

"Yup, he was," Steven said, and her self-control eroded away. She glanced up at him. His facial expression was nonchalant, but his eyebrows rose when he added, "Blanket on the couch was covered in their drool when I got back."

"Eww!" She faced forward again, trying to get the images out of her head. The highway had turned into a mountain road, and Steven patted her shoulder—in sympathy? Mockery? It felt like sympathy, but she didn't trust her interpretations of him anymore. They'd led her astray too many times.

The feelings he inspired in her, however, she trusted implicitly. They were unlike anything she'd ever experienced, sourced from reality rather than fantasy. But her body was unaccustomed to them. They contained a type of power she'd never processed before. That was why they'd hit her days after their kiss. She'd needed time to switch from direct current to alternating current.

But feelings weren't everything. God had a plan for her. She'd always believed that. Perhaps today was about learning forgiveness. If she could forgive Michael for all his transgressions, then she'd have the most gorgeous husband in the country. Because if they got back together, he _would _be proposing to her by his graduation. She'd accept nothing less.

"Yes, 'Eww,' Kelso," Fez said. "You should not kiss a woman with your saliva."

Jackie slouched in the chair, breaking contact with Steven's fingertips. Maybe God intended for her to be with Fez. He was considerate and romantic. He worshiped the ground she walked on, and he was the best dancer she'd ever known.

"Look, Kelso," Fez said, and she watched his reflection in the rearview mirror. His face was cute from certain angles, more so now that he'd gotten rid of his bangs. "Look at my tongue." Fez opened his mouth wide and pointed inside it. "Saliva should coat the tongue just enough to allow movement." He wiggled his tongue obscenely. "You want the lady to feel sensual and erotic, not like she's at a water park."

Nausea coated Jackie's throat. Fez had made a good point but in a revolting way. God couldn't want her to be with him. Otherwise, Fez wouldn't be foreign … unless she was supposed to alter her standards, to be charitable with her love, be self-sacrificing for the unfortunate.

She shut her eyes. Those were crazy thoughts, but were they more insane than thinking she had a chance with Steven? He wasn't here for her. He was here to mess with Michael. If anything, her presence made him sick—and he'd once told her to die. How could she love someone who despised her so much?

Because he'd protected her despite his hatred. Shown her compassion. Given her an opportunity to prove herself. Her mind, body, and soul marveled at the kind of boyfriend he'd be if he actually loved her. The possibilities were too exciting to let go of.

"Man, put your tongues back in your mouth!" Steven was scowling. Jackie saw it in the rearview mirror. Michael and Fez had their tongues out, moving them in the most unsexy way possible. "No chick wants to see that," Steven said, and his head angled slightly in Jackie's direction.

But was he really indicating her? His sunglasses concealed his eyes, and his reflection was too small for her to be sure of anything. The rearview mirror wasn't a crystal ball. It was a misleading piece of glass, not that God was being any clearer.

Maybe this trip was a lesson in not giving up, fighting battles that appeared unwinnable. She needed a clearer sign, and she clasped her hands together in prayer. If she were supposed to forget Steven Hyde, then God had to tell her—

"And we're here!" Michael said, disrupting her prayer. How could they be at their destination already? Time must have shot forward while she'd pondered her life's greatest mysteries.

Michael parked the van in front of a squalid-looking shack. A rusty oil barrel sat in the snow in front of it, and Jackie's mouth fell open. This was his uncle's fabulous, _luxurious _cabin?

She'd been wrong. This trip wasn't about her love life. It wasn't about romance at all. It was about surviving a day in an icy, dilapidated hell.


	2. Part II

**Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show _copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

ONE DIFFERENCE:  
**HYDE GOES TO KELSO'S ICE SHACK**

**Part II**

Hyde stood back, laughing, as Jackie assessed Kelso's "fabulous cabin". Her face had grown as pale as the snow beneath their feet. She'd probably expected a romantic winter getaway, and instead...

"You brought me to an outhouse?" she said.

Kelso grinned. "Pretty incredible, huh?"

"I'll say," Hyde said and drew a glance from Jackie. Calling the rickety-looking shack a cabin was more than hyperbole. It was almost criminal. Kelso's uncle might as well have plopped a _Monopoly _house on top of a mountain. "This is class, man." Hyde nodded in fake approval. Beyond the shack, though, the view wasn't half-bad. They were surrounded by fresh snow, pine trees, and gray mountain peaks. "My parents woulda killed to get hitched at a place like this."

"It's an outhouse," Jackie repeated.

"Actually, Jackie..." Forman banged twice on an old steel oil barrel. It served either as a garbage can or a fireplace. "That's the outhouse."

"No! No, it's an ice shack—for fishing," Kelso said. "This is gonna be a blast. It's so beautiful out here. Plus..." he pulled a bottle of moisturizer from his jacket pocket, "I brought lotion."

Jackie eyed the moisturizer as if it were poison. Then she darted for the van. Its side doors were open, and Fez followed her there. He'd already done a quick inspection of the shack, left his backpack inside, and now he seemed to be waiting for an opening.

Maybe he'd get it. Bringing Jackie here had been a tactical error on Kelso's part. The moron should've known better.

Hyde scratched his cheeks. The cold had made them itchy. "Didja forget who Jackie is," he said, walking up to Kelso, "or are you just inept?"

"Huh?" Kelso looked at him with no understanding, and Hyde swiped the moisturizer.

"Never mind. I know the answer." Hyde examined the bottle before popping the cap open. It was new, which meant Kelso hadn't used it before … on Laurie or himself. He squeezed a few drops onto his fingers and rubbed them into his face. His skin had a bad habit of flaking in the cold. Normally he wouldn't have given a crap, but an itchy face would distract him too much.

He tossed the moisturizer back at Kelso and anticipated Donna's laughter. He'd used a girly lotion in front of her. Hell, the pink bottle was covered in stylized pastel butterflies. It was the perfect burn opportunity, but she pulled her open coat closed and said, "Ooh, it's kind of cold."

"Here, take my jacket." Forman pulled off his hooded coat and covered her shoulders with it.

"I love you," she said, but she was smirking at Kelso. It was a burn on him somehow, but Hyde didn't get the joke.

"God," Forman said, "we are such … _the perfect couple._"

Kelso looked toward Hyde then rolled his eyes. Something must've gone down in the van early-on, before Hyde and Fez's arrival.

"I'm cold, too," Jackie said. Her gaze had traveled in Hyde and Kelso's direction, but Hyde couldn't tell who she was talking to.

"Well, damn, Jackie—" Kelso shrugged, "I can't control the weather!"

Her gaze hardened into a glare, directed squarely at Kelso. His ineptitude seemed to shock her, but Kelso was freakin' Kelso. Expecting him to behave differently was a fool's dream.

She leaned against the van's side opening, and her eyes flicked to Hyde. She was frowning, maybe even pouting. He could warm her up, _wanted to—_with more than his coat—but he'd violated his own terms enough. Patting her shoulder in the van was as far as he'd go. He was here to observe, not participate.

"Jackie, take my coat." Fez wrapped his corduroy jacket around her shoulders, but she didn't smile at him. Her smile was for Hyde and Kelso, and she bared almost all her teeth. It was an act of aggression or a challenge, one Hyde wouldn't respond to.

"Oh, thanks, _Fez!_" she said and left Fez's side. She walked across the snow toward the shack. Her jeans were tight, acting more like a second skin than denim. They outlined her ass perfectly and gave Hyde thoughts he couldn't afford to have. His blood had to remain circulating throughout his body—not horded by one particular extremity—especially in this cold.

He let out the breath he was holding once she disappeared inside the shack. Focusing on other people would be easier now, like Forman and Donna. They were up to something. Their voices sounded artificially sanguine, as if they were putting on a show.

"So, _sweetie,_" Forman said and placed his hands on Donna's waist, "what do you want to do?"

"Whatever you want to do, _honey._"

"I want to go inside."

She grinned a big, toothy grin. "That's what I wanna do, too!"

Forman matched her expression and said, "Oh, my God—let's go!" Then they followed Jackie into the shack.

Fez shut the van's side doors, and Kelso charged up to him. Kelso was pissed, and Hyde could've used the moment to get inside the shack. Steal a few Kelso-less seconds with Jackie, but to accomplish what? He hadn't seen enough to confirm or invalidate his suspicions, that she'd used him—unsuccessfully—to get over Kelso.

"Hey, what the hell was that jacket business, man?" Kelso said, and Fez put his hands on his hips, a defiant stance. "You're making me look bad."

"Look, Kelso," Fez said, "you are my good, good friend, but I will stop at nothing to win Jackie. And if you're in my way..." he narrowed his eyes and deepened his voice, "I will destroy you."

He marched through the snow and went into the shack. Kelso, meanwhile, walked to Hyde and hit him on the shoulder. "That guy, huh?"

"Yeah, _that _guy," Hyde said.

"Jackie's _my_ prize, not his, and I'm gonna win her." Kelso took out the bottle of moisturizer. He squeezed a blob onto his palm and rubbed it all over his hands. "But he's trying to ruin my master plan. This was supposed to be a romantic double-date—with Eric and Donna. Now it's Eric, Donna, _Fez, _and you, and that's a four-way I never wanted."

"Hey, leave me out of it." Hyde intended to sound irritated, but he was quietly laughing. Kelso's hands were slippery with moisturizer, and the bottle had shot from his grip and landed in the snow.

"Then why are you here?' Kelso tried picking up the bottle, but it slithered from his hands like an eel. "Jackie's still got some kinda fixation on you. That's why I wanted—damn it!" The bottle evaded his grasp a third time, and he chased after it. "Hyde, help me pick up this thing."

"No way. It's got your sticky mess all over it." Hyde stared at the shack. Jackie was inside, wearing Fez's jacket … and craving to wear Kelso's. "And you got it wrong. If she's fixated on anything, it's getting back home. Nice job."

Kelso returned with the bottle in his jacket pocket. The denim of his jeans was darker at the thighs, and he must've wiped his hands on it. "Well, anyway, just stay out of Jackie's eye-line. My uncle's got tons of beer in there. You can have as much as you want."

Hyde's eyebrow quirked up. _Beer? _This day just got a little better. "Cool."

"Yeah. Let's get inside before it's gone."

They started for the shack, but Hyde stopped them before entering. "So what's Forman and Donna's deal? The cutesie name-callin', the over-enthusiasm … what'd you tell them to do?"

"Oh, they're my example. I'm really bad at this relationship stuff, right? But Eric and Donna are, like, the perfect couple. And I'm gonna copy all the sissy, loser things Eric does for his woman."

"Does that include not sleeping with other chicks?"

Kelso pushed open the shack door. "Today it does."

* * *

Jackie stood in the corner of the ice shack, hugging herself. The wooden walls offered little insulation from the cold, and Fez had taken back his jacket. Worse, the place smelled rotten and salty, like dead fish.

Steven was standing, too, at the opposite corner from her. Everyone else sat on benches, around a square hole cut into the floor. The hole provided access to the icy lake, and she hoped the shack was on firm enough ground. If the ice beneath it wasn't thick enough, they could all plunge in and die of hypothermia.

"Boy, ice fishing's fun," Eric said flatly. He was holding a fishing pole, and the line was in the water. "I can see why my dad likes to do this once a year."

"Yup," Steven said. "Nothing like sitting in the cold, holding a stick, and waiting for a fish to commit suicide." His back was to everyone, and his eyes were focused on the wall. Pictures of Michael's uncle and various fish he'd caught were taped up. Steven seemed fascinated by them. Either that, or he'd gotten drunk on his first can of beer.

Jackie raised her hands to her face and blew her hot breath on them. Why hadn't she brought gloves? Her fingers were stiff and freezing, and no one but her cared about it.

Michael glanced back at her. "I like this place, out here in the middle of a frozen lake. It's cozy, don't you think, Jackie?"

"If by 'cozy' you mean 'small and smelly'..." she crossed behind him, stopped beside Steven, and forced her lips into a fake smile, "then yes!"

Michael laughed. "Good one, Jackie. That's funny."

She swallowed another insult as Steven's wool coat brushed against her. He said nothing but went to the corner she'd just abandoned. A pair of snowshoes hung on a wall hook. He appeared to take great interest in them, running his fingertips over the webbing. Was he purposely ignoring her? She shivered and chattered her teeth loudly, hoping to evoke some reaction in him. His attention moved—from the snowshoes to a canteen hanging behind Donna's head.

"Well, she needs a sense of humor," Fez said, "with an unfaithful ex-boyfriend who brings her to a dump like this."

"Ow. Nice." Michael always appreciated burns against him, but his lack of shame was a sharp icicle. It lodged deeply into Jackie's chest, causing a freeze no extra jacket could melt.

"Thank you." Fez gestured across the fishing hole. "I mean, Eric would never take Donna to a place like this."

"Fez, it wouldn't matter where we were." Donna put her hand on Eric's knee. "Just being together makes it fun."

Michael's mouth dropped open, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing, but Donna's words were the epitome of true romance. With the right person, even a freezing shack could be tolerable.

"Aw, but I would never bring you to a place like this," Eric said—an even more romantic statement— and placed his hand on top of Donna's, "because I know that you don't like such small, smelly places."

"You know me so well," Donna said.

"Eskimo kiss!" He leaned his face toward hers, and they rubbed noses.

Michael's mouth dropped open wider, and he pressed a hand to his cheek. He looked nauseated, but Jackie's eyes flicked to Steven. He was finally facing front, and a faint smile glided over his lips as he sipped his beer.

_What do you find so funny? _she longed to ask, but her gaze dropped to the floor. Never had she felt so lonely in such a cramped space.

"Too bad Kelso doesn't know anything about Jackie," Fez said.

"Whoa, that is not true." Michael stood up from the bench. A beer was in his hand, but he put it down. "I know everything about her."

"That so?" Steven said, and Jackie's pulse tightened. He hadn't spoken in so long that his voice jolted her. "I call bullshit. Exhibit A: bringing her to this shack."

"No, that was a guess. I know the important stuff." Michael stepped over the fishing hole into Jackie's space. "In fact, I bet I know more about her than Eric knows about Donna."

Eric chuckled smugly. ""Whoa, Kelso—walk before you run, baby."

Jackie crossed her arms over her chest, for protection as well as warmth. "You think you know me, Michael? Then prove it."

"Oh, I have an idea." Fez grabbed his backpack from the floor and pulled out four notebooks and several pens. "Let's play _The Newlywed Game._ Eric and Donna versus Kelso and Jackie. And I will be the impartial judge who gets Jackie in the end."

"What?" Michael said.

"I mean, uh … good luck," Fez said. "Good luck to everyone."

Jackie stared at him. Fez had planned this. He'd set Michael up, hoping to show her how undeserving Michael was of her love. But even if she wrote Michael off forever, that didn't mean she'd fall into Fez's arms.

His words splashed through her skull: _"I will be the impartial judge who gets Jackie in the end._" He kept trying to garner her affection. If he knew that were impossible, would he have given her his jacket earlier?

He and Michael were rearranging the seating area. They placed Michael's bench across from Donna and Eric's. Then Fez dragged a crate from a corner and sat on it. Index cards were in his hands. He must have written questions on them.

If he planned on testing Michael, then she'd test Fez, too. Were his feelings for her altruistic or selfish? Would he put her needs first, knowing he'd get nothing in return?

She sat next to Michael on the bench, and Fez passed her a notebook and pen. But Steven didn't seem fazed by any of this. He stepped over the fishing hole, grabbed a crate, and plunked down on it. He was close enough to Jackie for her to touch, but his eyes were fixed on the icy water—until Fez handed her and Donna index cards.

"Ladies," Fez said, "please write down your answers to the following questions on separate pieces of notebook paper. Gentleman, turn your backs to your ladies."

Michael didn't turn his back, so Jackie turned hers. She began to write the answers to Fez's questions, and halfway through, Steven passed her an index card.

"Fez forgot this one," he said in a near-whisper. It was the first time he'd really spoken to her, on this trip and in months.

"It's in your handwriting," she said.

"Yeah, but it's a question he forgot to ask."

"How do you know? Did you come up with this little game with him?"

"Nope. Rifled through his backpack on the ride over here. Had no clue what I was lookin' at." He scratched his cheek, a gesture of discomfort. She'd studied him enough this past year to learn how his emotions manifested. He was excellent at hiding them, but she was an expert at reading body language. It was a useful skill to have, especially when one's primary clique consisted of two-faced cheerleaders.

"Why do you want me to answer this?" she said. Her gaze lingered a little too long on him, and her body tensed. She was like Goldilocks, only she had three potential boyfriends to contend with, not bears. Michael was gorgeous but unfaithful. Fez was attentive but not her type, and Steven … was unavailable.

She read over his question again. It was highly provocative—he was clearly using her to get to Michael. This game was just a game to him, nothing more.

"No interference from the audience!" Fez shouted. He gestured for the index card Steven had given her. She gave it back to Steven, and he passed it to Fez over the fishing hole. "Ooh, a good one. I approve. We'll use it as a tie-breaker if necessary."

Jackie wrote down her answer to Steven's question with a shaking hand. She decided to be truthful rather than deceptive. If neither Michael, Fez, nor Steven could handle it, then none of them were worthy of her.

* * *

"Gentlemen," Fez said, "our ladies have already written down the answers to their questions."

Jackie's cheeks were flushed—from cold? Excitement? Hyde couldn't tell. Maybe it was a combo of both. He'd been about to give her his coat. Then Fez piped up about the game.

Her red hands and chattering teeth had set Hyde on edge. He'd spent too many nights freezing like that, exposed to the cold thanks to his ma. She'd kick him out of the house for poker night. Or date night. Or whatever the hell she wanted him gone for.

But Jackie's shivering had stopped a few minutes ago. Sitting next to Kelso was probably heating her up. She wasn't looking at him, though, and gripped her notebook as if it contained the secrets of the cosmos. Its pages might just reveal the answer Hyde needed to move on. To let go of another hopeless situation.

Fez turned on his crate toward Eric and Donna. He raised his index cards to his eyes and said, "First up, Eric. Eric, what is Donna's favorite Pizza topping?"

"Pepperoni," Forman said.

A grin split Donna's face as she raised her notebook. The word "Pepperoni" was written across the page.

"Oh, yeah!" Forman gave Kelso a smug sideways eye before standing. Donna stood, too, and they hugged each other. "We're such the perfect couple!" Forman said.

"I know!" Donna said, and they sat down again together. They were putting on a sickening show, but Hyde didn't mind. Maybe it would shove reality through Jackie's skull, that she didn't have to settle for crap.

Fez turned toward Kelso. "Now, Kelso—"

"Mushrooms!" Kelso shouted and leapt to his feet. He looked at Jackie, who stared blankly at the fishing hole. She seemed embarrassed or uncomfortable. The former Hyde understood. Kelso was freakin' embarrassing, but the latter … too many variables existed for an accurate hypothesis.

"No, no, no, no, no," Fez said. " That is not your question. And minus two for interrupting the host."

"Oh." Kelso sat back down.

"Minus two," Fez repeated.

Jackie's discomfort shifted to obvious disappointment, and Kelso said, "Okay, sorry."

"It's okay. … Minus two," Fez said again, and Hyde was glad he had on his shades. His eyes had rolled to the ceiling. Fez was coming on too strong, as usual. His tactics had never worked on Jackie. Hell, they'd always backfired, and they'd likely do the same with this stunt, too.

"Now, Kelso," Fez continued, "last summer you 'accidentally' bounced Jackie off a trampoline. When she woke up in the hospital, what were her first words?"

Kelso hesitated. Then he said, "Oh, uh … 'Michael, you idiot!'"

Jackie gasped and raised her notebook. The words, "Michael, you idiot!" were written in her curly handwriting. Hyde saw only a flash of them, though, before she put the notebook down and grasped Kelso's forearm. "Michael, you remembered!"

They smiled at each other, and Hyde focused on the frost-covered window above Fez. A shared smile didn't mean she'd take Kelso back, but it wasn't a good sign.

"Wow, he remembered." Fez's voice broke a little. His plan was backfiring, and on a different day, Hyde would burn him for it. "Okay, Eric, according to Donna, what is Donna's last name?"

Hyde stifled a chuckle. Man, was the game rigged. Fez needed a lesson on subtlety.

"Pinciotti," Forman said.

Donna lifted her notebook with an uncharacteristic girlish shriek. "Pinciotti" was scrawled on the page, and she shouted, "Oh, my God!" in Kelso's direction. Then she hugged Forman again.

Fez smiled approvingly at them. "Correct."

Hyde glanced at Jackie. He expected her to be pissed, but a genuine expression of joy had spread across her face. It was a reminder of what lay beneath her vain, chatterbox surface. She could be quiet, introspective, and compassionate. The opposite of what usually showed the world.

Her inner core appealed to him as much as her outer nature repulsed him. On Veteran's Day, her fundamental self had drop-kicked him off a cliff. He was still plummeting, and the landing wouldn't be a soft one. He'd probably break every bone in his body, but he couldn't blame Jackie for his predicament. Not her fault his heart was an imbecile.

"Now, Kelso," Fez said, "Jackie has distant relatives in the Cook Islands. In the early 1900s, what species of turtle did they save from extinction? Take your time."

Hyde held his breath, but laughter escaped anyway. Fez's questions for Kelso were ridiculous and essentially unanswerable, but Jackie covered her mouth when Kelso said, "Ladder-back."

Hyde quit laughing as she revealed the answer in her notebook. Kelso had been right, and he and Jackie exchanged surprised but elated looks. Forman and Donna seemed dumbfounded, but this shack had to exist in an alternate dimension. It was the only logical explanation.

Jackie held up the notebook again, as if Kelso's correct answer were a victory flag. "Michael, you're amazing!" she said. Then they both stood up and embraced.

Fez stared at them. "No, no, no, no. No hugging!"

"But Eric and Donna keep doing it!" Kelso said and didn't let Jackie go.

"Because they are an actual couple," Fe said. "You and Jackie are not together."

Jackie slipped free of Kelso's grip and sat back down. "I'm sorry. I forgot."

"That's right." Fez frowned. "And let's try to remember that, little lady: _you and Kelso are not together, _so no hugging. Minus two."

Hyde hunched over his knees, but his eyes no longer took in his surroundings. All he could see was black. Jackie had forgotten what? The no-hugging rule or that she and Kelso weren't together?

Fez asked Forman another simple question, but Hyde had the only answer that mattered: Jackie was still in love Kelso. In love and unreachable. Game over.

But she was going to screw herself by taking Kelso back. He might try to be faithful for a week, but some people were incapable of changing.

The darkness behind Hyde's eyes turned red. Coming home tonight would be a damn nightmare. Bud claimed Charlie's Bar was short-staffed and overworking him, but he usually came up short when rent was due. Hyde's paychecks had to make up for it. The rest went toward stocking the fridge.

Hyde never complained. Confrontation wasn't his bag.

So he'd go home and pretend he hadn't seen the betting slips. Not the best plan, but what were his options? If he quit funding Bud's habit, Bud could go back to booze. Or hit up some loan shark for cash, who'd break Bud's thumbs. Then again, if Hyde kept going the way he was going, he'd have to drop out of school.

Another round of cheers rose in the shack. Forman must've gotten his question right, but Hyde was done. He got off his crate and left the ice shack without explanation. The cold air hit him hard. It choked his breath and stung his eyes. He yanked open the van's side doors and thrust himself inside.

With the doors shut, the van was as warm as the shack. He should've grabbed a beer on his way out. No joints either. He sighed and sat against the van's leather-covered seats. He stretched his legs out in front of him, shut his eyes. Nothing to do but try to sleep.

But he was falling at terminal velocity. The ground was getting closer, and it would stop his descent soon … by smashing him to dust.


	3. Part III

**Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show _copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

ONE DIFFERENCE:  
**HYDE GOES TO KELSO'S ICE SHACK**

**Part III**

Jackie kept glancing at the ice shack's door. Steven had left a half-hour ago, and the place seemed twice as small without his presence … and twice as empty. Between rounds of Fez's game, Eric went outside to check on him. Apparently, Steven was napping in Michael's van. Whatever his intentions were today, they didn't include her.

"Well, the score is horribly close," Fez said. He was pacing in his little corner of the ice shack and looked absolutely miserably. What had he expected? That Michael wouldn't know important details about her life? She'd trained Michael well since their first date together. He hadn't been a faithful boyfriend, but at least he was interested in her.

She mustered a smile. "I'm very impressed, Michael."

"Yeah..." Michael gazed into her eyes, and her skin prickled, not unpleasantly. "I guess you just remember things about those you care about."

"Oh, please." Fez's face twisted with disgust. "I'm gonna puke. Let's get this nightmare over with." He propped a foot upon his crate, "This question is for all the marbles," and he smoothed his last index card on his knee. "You each had to answer this one, and we'll start with Donna. Donna, who gave Eric his best kiss?"

"Gee, I don't know..." Donna tapped her chin, obviously feigning confusion. Then her brows furrowed. "Well, he did learn French kissing from his sister's slutty college friend—"

"Yeah, no need to make this game artificially dramatic," Eric said. "Just tell us your answer." His fingers gripped his notebook. He seemed eager to raise it, but Donna wasn't finished.

"Not so fast," she said. "You were also kissed by Buddy Mor—"

"What?" Jackie, Michael, and Fez said collectively.

"You kissed Buddy Morgan?" Jackie leaned forward on the bench, but the fishing hole was right by her feet and large enough to swallow her, so she sat back again. "Donna, what are you talking about?"

"She's talking about nothing!" Eric thrust his notebook into the air, as if to show off his answer, but it slipped from his fingers. It dropped into the fishing hole and sunk faster than he could get to the floor. "Damn it! I wrote down 'Donna,' all right? Donna, you've always been my best kiss."

"That's sweet," Fez said, "but we don't have proof, so no points for you."

"But, Fez—"

"I said, 'No points,' you game-sabotaging sonuvabitch!"

Fez leaned against the wall, by the frost-covered window. The sky had become overcast with clouds, and it darkened the ice shack considerably. Michael stood up and pulled a lantern off the wall. He lit it with his lighter—and remarkably didn't set anything else on fire— and placed it on an upside-down pail.

"Okay, missy, what about you?" Eric said to Donna. He was sitting on the bench again. "You kissed Hyde—"

"No, he kissed me."

"Still, maybe part of you liked it."

"And you liked kissing Buddy?" Donna said.

"He kissed _me,_" Eric said, "which you brought up, so ... people shoving their tongues down our throats is fair game. So how about it?" He waggled his eyebrows. "Hyde's kiss? Did it do anything for ya?"

"Oh, my God. I don't believe this." Donna shoved herself off the bench and narrowly avoided the fishing hole. "I didn't want him to kiss me, but you actually enjoyed kissing that skanky college girl—and maybe Buddy, too."

"Come on, Donna." Eric grabbed her notebook and stood. Then he read her answer aloud. "'Eric.' So … I'm a better kisser than Hyde, huh?"

His back was facing Jackie now, but his tone indicated an arrogant grin and more obnoxious eyebrow-waggling. "Eric," she said, "Donna didn't let Steven really kiss her, so she's can't judge."

"Jackie," Donna said, "not helping."

"Actually, Jackie has a point," Eric said.

"Many points," Michael said. "We're totally gonna win this game."

"No," Eric gestured to the ice shack's door, "I mean maybe we should wake Hyde up and squash this question—"

"Gent bent!" Donna shoved him toward the fishing hole, but he landed in Michael's lap. She left the shack without closing the door, allowing a cold gust of wind to sweep in.

"Donna?" Eric followed her outside. "Are you going somewhere, honey?"

Fez closed the door after him. "Okay, this is it." His gaze landed on Jackie, and she shuddered. An emotion she couldn't identify was simmering beneath his skin. "Jackie, who was Kelso's best kiss? Think carefully."

"Me," she said. "If he and Laurie left slobber all over the basement blanket, she's got no technique at all."

"What?" Fez clawed at his cheeks as if he wanted to rip them off. "He's still sleeping with Laurie. How can you be so—so—damn it! I don't know the word in English, but in my native tongue it's _xtalco._"

"Fez, me and Laurie are over as of three days ago." Michael slapped his notebook on his knees. "God! I already told you that."

"Jackie, don't you care that Kelso's a two-timing whore?"

"Of course I do." Jackie slouched, a lousy attempt to hide herself. If only her jacket were three sizes bigger. "But maybe he's changed—"

"Oh, I have, baby." Michael lifted his notebook. Her name was written on the page in capital letters and an exclamation mark. "You've always been my best kiss."

"You're just copying what Eric said." Fez reached across Jackie and snatched the notebook from Michael's hands. He dropped it into the fishing hole, and ice-cold water splashed onto Jackie's jeans. "If Jackie takes you back, will you sleep with other women?"

"That question wasn't on one of the index cards," Michael said, but it was something Jackie should've asked herself. She needed to ask him lots of questions, not about her family or obscure things she'd said to him, but about their potential relationship.

A deer skull hung on the wall farthest from her, above the snowshoes. Michael's answers could be like the skull's antlers, sharp and cutting. Even if he told her what she wanted to hear, would it be the truth?

"Ask Michael the last question," she said.

"Why?" Fez had ripped up his last index card and tossed the pieces to the floor. "You two have already won."

"Not necessarily."

The corner of Fez's mouth twitched up, a hint of a smile. "All right. Kelso, who was Jackie's best kiss?"

"Easy." Michael slid his hand over Jackie's and squeezed it. She didn't squeeze back, but she didn't remove her hand either. "I'm her best kiss."

"Jackie?" Fez said.

Michael let her go, and she picked up her notebook. An indignant shriek left Michael's throat, and Fez squinted at her answer, as if he couldn't read it.

"No, you spelled my name wrong," Michael said. "It starts with an M."

Fez gestured for the notebook. Jackie gave it to him, and he pointed to the first letter of her answer. "That is an S. The next letter is a T—"

"Hyde?" Michael shook his head. "When did you kiss Hyde?"

"On our date," she said.

"But—but he said nothing happened!"

Fez hit Michael's shoulder with the notebook. "He lied, you idiot!"

"Hyde?" Michael shouted again.

Jackie went to the ice shack door. Steven had lied about kissing her. Did that mean he'd lied about the kiss in other ways, too? Her thoughts had grown too big for her mind. She needed to talk to Donna, and as she escaped into the cold, she heard Michael say to Fez, "So, who won?"

* * *

"Donna, I don't know what to feel." Jackie was whispering. Only a pair of metal doors separated her from Steven's ears. She and Donna were talking by Michael's van, but she didn't have the courage to peek inside the window. Steven was probably still asleep, but she couldn't risk him overhearing.

"Jackie, I can't read your lips," Donna said. "You don't have to turn your volume up to its normal hundred, but try, like, a four."

"Okay, then can we please go somewhere else? Eric's sulking on the other side of the shack, and Michael and Fez are arguing _in _the shack." Jackie pointed to a flat expanse of snow beyond the van. "Let's go over there."

Donna didn't budge. "We're on a frozen lake, remember? We have no idea how thick the ice is over there. At least here, it's bearing the weight of the van. We should be safe."

Jackie groaned. "Fine."

"What is Eric's problem?" Donna said a few moments later. "Okay, Buddy kissed him the same way Hyde kissed me, but he liked Frenching Laurie's slutty friend. I've never willingly kissed anyone else."

"Maybe you should."

"Excuse me?"

"No, I just mean..." Jackie's mind drifted. The threads of the conversation had frayed. "It's like I'm on _The Dating Game, _and Michael, Fez, and Steven are my choice in bachelors. One's a cheater, one I'm not attracted to, and one isn't attracted to me."

"Yeah, Eric has no idea how lucky he is," Donna said. "I could be kissing guys left and right. I get hit on, like, all the time—by jocks, by geeks—but I'm in love with _him._" She stood on her toes, as if she could see over the shack and into Eric's brain. "And I've never felt the need to French my brother's slutty college friend!"

"Donna, there is so much wrong with that you said." Jackie counted off on her fingers. "First of all, jocks don't hit on you. They hit on me. Second, you don't have a brother. Third, you and Eric weren't exclusive yet when he kissed that other girl. You had barely begun to make-out, and fourth, you should thank that girl because Eric's kissing got a lot better afterward, right?"

"Right, but—"

Jackie put up a hand to stop her. "But Eric loves you and is faithful and would never cheat on you. You find him attractive—for _some_ reason—and he's head-over-heels in love with you. You've got nothing to complain about." She pressed her back hard into the van's door. The cold metal reached through her jacket, combining with the frigid winter air, and she shivered. "All you had was a misunderstanding, so get over it."

Donna didn't respond, and Jackie shoved her icy hands into her jacket pockets. She balled them into fists, but the silence became more painful than the cold. "Maybe I'm just lonely," she said. "Or I need a sign from, like, God. Or ... I don't know. Maybe I just need someone to tell me if I'm crazy."

"If you're even thinking about taking Kelso back," Donna said, "you _are _crazy. Look at where we are, Jackie. He hasn't stopped lying to you."

Jackie's foot shoved snow into a small pile. "I guess he hasn't."

"And he didn't invite Fez and Hyde on this trip. They invited themselves. Kelso thinks they're his rivals for your affection."

"He's an idiot," Jackie said, "and lying has its place," but not when a boy did it to hurt her. She slammed her hands against the van. The impact shot up her arms, the nerve-endings in her elbows tingled sharply, but she slammed the van again. Maybe it would wake Steven up. If he'd lied about their kiss, if he were concealing feelings for her … but she was fantasizing again. "Do you think Michael could actually change?"

"A tire? Sure." Donna's attention was elsewhere. Eric had returned to the ice shack.

A low growl burned Jackie's throat. Donna had to see Eric truthfully, just as Jackie had to see Steven truthfully. Her feelings for him would never be requited, and she curled her fingers around Donna's wrist. "Let's go get our men."

* * *

Hyde had been awake for some time, thanks to Jackie and Donna's muffled voices. They came through the van's closed doors, but he couldn't make out more than a few distinct words. His eyes remained closed. Sleep refused to take him back, though, even after silence returned.

The discussion must have been a doozy. It ended after someone punched the van a few times. Probably Donna. Forman had screwed up somehow … typical.

Hyde yawned and scratched fingers through his curls, and the van doors flew open. Cold air rushed in, along with Kelso and Jackie. She was holding onto one of Kelso's hands with both of hers.

"Hyde, get out," Kelso said. "Jackie and I have some reconciling to do … if you know what I mean."

Jackie's grip on his hand was strong, but she looked anything but happy. In fact, she seemed downright frightened.

"No, I don't know what you mean," Hyde said and made no effort to leave. He stayed where he was, against the back of the van's seats, and crossed his outstretched legs at the ankles. "Why don't you let me in on it?"

Kelso grinned. "I won, and Fez lost."

A quiet but shuddering breath left escaped Jackie's lungs. Her head was down, and her fingers adjusted their grip, as if she didn't want to touch him. Maybe she felt like she had no choice. Fear was rising off her like smoke.

"Cool," Hyde said. "How'd ya do it?" No way in hell was he leaving the two of them alone.

"Oh, it was awesome." Kelso disentangled himself from Jackie's grasp—that was surprise number one. Surprise number two: he shut the van's doors without trying to force Hyde out.

Surprise number three, though, made Hyde's muscles stiffen. Jackie slumped down next to him, close enough for their bodies to touch.

"Jackie came rushing back into the shack, right?" Kelso said. "She told me to guess a number between one and ten, and I got it."

"No, your first guess was wrong," Jackie said, "and your second guess was two numbers off."

"Yeah, but you're with me now, not Fez." Kelso sat on a leather hump extending from the van floor. It served as a chair, but Hyde never used it anymore. Too much of a risk with that plastic tarp covering the missing back door. Getting hurled from the van into on-coming traffic? Not his idea of a good time.

The missing door was Jackie's fault. She'd driven the van recklessly once, to chauffeur that asshole Chip and his band to a gig. Her choices in potential boyfriends sucked. Maybe they reflected how she truly felt about herself. Or she was just naïve.

"Hyde, you should've heard him," Kelso continued. "Fez was all, 'Jackie, if you go out that door with him, whatever we might have had between us is over forever.' And Jackie totally left!"

Kelso's ego had taken over. He was laughing, and his hands pressed against the van's ceiling. He started to dance—more like convulse—and the van rocked with him.

"I won, and Fez lost," he sang. "I won, and Fez l—"

A loud _crack! _shook the van. They were parked on a frozen lake...

Kelso stopped dancing and barreled through the van's plastic tarp. Hyde stood up while softer but more menacing _cracks! _rattled the metal doors, and he grabbed Jackie's hand. He yanked her up and outside—and didn't let go until they were back at the shack, a safe distance from the van.

Forman, Donna, and Fez were waiting for them, and Forman said, "You guys, what happened?"

"I don't know!" Kelso said. "All of a sudden the van just started shaking."

"'All of a sudden'?" Hyde scowled. "Man, you were having a freakin' self-congratulatory one-man orgy in there."

"Uh, guys?" Donna pointed to the van. It was slowly sinking into the frozen lake.

"Quick! Everyone give me your belts," Kelso said as he unbuckled his own belt. "Together we can pull it out."

But the van continued to submerge itself in the icy water. Fez stayed put behind Kelso, but Donna and Forman moved farther away, beside the shack's rusty oil barrel.

A good idea. Hyde reached for Jackie's hand again, but she grabbed hold of his arm first. She pushed him forward, and they joined Forman and Donna.

"Come on!" Kelso shouted. "Give me—"

"Michael, this is it!" Jackie said and hugged herself to Hyde's arm. "This is the sign I was looking for!"

A warm buzz traveled deep into Hyde's skin, through his coat. Wool couldn't protect him from Jackie, from what she brought out in him.

"God doesn't want us to be together, Michael!" she shouted.

Kelso barely looked in her direction. "Who cares?" His belt was in his hands, and he gestured to the roof of his van. Water was seeping over it. "I'm losing my van!"

"See?" Jackie released Hyde's arm. His instinct was to hold onto her, but he let her take a step toward Kelso. "That was the problem with us," she said. "It was always about you!"

"Jackie, are you losing your van?" Kelso said.

She took few more steps toward him. "No!"

"Then shut up!"

The van disappeared completely under the water. It would probably rust there as the lake froze over it, as Hyde hoped Jackie's heart wasn't rusting now. She was barely moving, standing in the swathe of distance between himself and Kelso.

Fez, though, was laughing. His glee hung in the air like fog. He'd gotten a badass consolation prize, watching Kelso lose his van.

"Wow," Donna said to Forman, "Kelso's treatment of Jackie puts your dumbassery into perspective."

"Donna," he said, "if the Vista Cruiser sank to the bottom of a frozen lake, my first priority would be keeping you safe."

"I know." She slung an arm around his shoulders. "You aren't strong enough to haul the Vista Cruiser out of a frozen lake."

He chuckled, and his breath came out as white smoke. "That's ... yeah. There's my sweet girl."

Whatever had gone on between them, they'd be fine. But Jackie was another story. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she was shivering. Kelso didn't appear to notice, or maybe he simply didn't care. His eyes were fixed on the watery hole where his van used to be.

Jackie looked to Fez. She stuck out her bottom lip in a pout and said, "I'm cold."

Fez matched her body language, crossing his arms over his chest. His amusement had clearly evaporated, and he said,. "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a rat's ass!" Then he went back inside the shack .

Jackie's arms fell limply to her sides. Hyde expected her to look to him next, but her gaze moved over the frozen lake.

"Well, we've got a long, freezing walk ahead of us," Forman said, "and the sun's not going to stay in the sky forever."

"Fortunately for us," Donna patted her coat pocket, "I brought a map."

"Is that what that is? I thought you were just happy to see me."

She grabbed his hand. "No way in hell I'd trust Kelso with directions. Let's go." She tugged him toward the ice shack. They disappeared inside, leaving Hyde, Jackie, and Kelso alone.

"This is your fault, Hyde," Kelso said after a moment. His belt was partially wrapped around his fist. The dangling remainder whipped his leg as he gestured wildly, first to Hyde then to the van's watery grave. "Your. FAULT!"

"My fault?" Hyde stayed by the oil barrel. "Who asked you to jump around in the van?"

"I wouldn't have had to jump around if you hadn't gotten in the way."

"Whatever."

"No, not 'whatever'." Kelso stomped through the snow and pushed past Jackie in the process. She stumbled backward and crashed to the ground, but Kelso didn't stop. He advanced on Hyde, as if Jackie was a pile of books that had been in his way.

"Shit—" Hyde hurtled forward, shoved Kelso into the snow, and rushed to Jackie's side. He stuck his hands under her arms and lifted her to her feet. "You all right?"

"No!" Bits of snow clung to her palms. She wiped them on her jeans. "I can't believe I almost took you back, Michael!" Her eyes were growing wet, but she didn't cry. "You pushed me down on purpose!"

"I did not!" Kelso got to his feet and shook the snow from his hands. Then he pointed at Hyde. "See? You're doing it again!"

"Doing what?" Hyde said. He was close to kicking Kelso's ass, but he inhaled a few deep, cold breaths.

"Getting in the way! How am I supposed to have a chance when you're holding onto her?"

Hyde glanced down at himself. One of his arms was hooked protectively around Jackie's back, and she was hugging his waist with both arms. To outside eyes, they must have looked cozy. Too cozy, but he couldn't make himself let go.

"If you'd stayed out of the way after she and I broke up," Kelso said, "so she could suffer properly—"

"We didn't break up," Jackie said. "I dumped you!"

Kelso flung his belt to the ground. "Look, the details aren't important. Hyde, you should've let her get arrested for that pot. You should've let Chip manhandle her so she'd see how bad she had it without me. Then I would've been forgiven, and—"

A small shriek escaped Jackie's throat, and she pulled free from Hyde's half-embrace. She reached Kelso with fists and feet swinging. Some of her blows landed, and Kelso began to defend himself.  
He could fend her off easily, but her safety today hadn't been a priority. If he caused even the tiniest of bruises...

Hyde charged between them, using his body as both a wedge and barrier. "Let me at him, Steven!" Jackie said and scratched at the back of his coat. Her moxie was admirable, but it outmatched her physical strength.

"Later," Hyde said. He grabbed Kelso's jacket collar and shoved him against the ice shack. "Keep talking, man." Hyde's voice was calmer than he felt. His patience had sunk to the bottom of the lake with the van. "You wanna make a point, then make it already."

"I—I—I'm just saying," Kelso put up his hands, "Jackie's mine. You shouldn't be picking her up off the ground. And—and—" his voice cracked, "quit giving her ideas. I mean, _God!_ She said you're a better kisser than me. You broke the code, man!" He sniffled, and tears rimmed the bottom of his eyes. "And now I've lost my van forever—and maybe my girl, too!"

Hyde looked over his right shoulder at Jackie, only Jackie wasn't there. A tap to his left shoulder told him where she was. "Steven," she said, "please give Michael and me a minute."

"Don't tell me you're fallin' for his pity-crap."

"Steven, let me talk to him."

His fingers stiffened on Kelso's collar. Then they sprang open. "Fine. It's your damn funeral."

Jackie took his place in front of Kelso. She caressed the side of Kelso's face, and nausea billowed in Hyde's stomach. Smoking weed must have given him schizophrenia. It was the only explanation for loving this chick.

"Oh, Michael," she said sweetly. She grasped Kelso's shoulders, and her thumbs continued to caress his cheeks. "You really do try, don't you?"

Kelso nodded as a tear slid down his cheek. "Uh-huh."

"I'm so sorry you lost your van..."

Searing bile rose into Hyde's throat. He had to get away, smash his fist into something. He trudged past the oil barrel, intending to yell at his friends inside the ice shack. They needed to move their asses already, but Kelso grunted behind him. A _thud _followed, the sound of a body falling into the snow.

Hyde whipped around. Kelso was on the ground, curled in the fetal position, and whimpering.

"And I'm _so _not sorry for that!" Jackie said. She was standing over him, hands on her hips. A triumphant stance.

Hyde stared at her. "Did you kick him in the stones?"

"Yeah."

"You faked him out?"

"Yeah."

"Holy hell."

"It's not that impressive, Steven. He's never been able to tell when I'm faking things."

He went toward her. "You ever fake anything with me?"

She pressed her lips together. When she released them, they were as red as cherry pop. "Maybe."

A foot of space existed between them, and she clutched his forearms. A new kind of tension was building in his body, but its release wasn't guaranteed. She'd tried to use Fez just a few minutes ago, and with Kelso crumpled in the snow, cupping his 'nads … he was a captive audience.

"If you wanna make Kelso's suffering worse," Hyde said, "I'm sure Fez would slip you his tongue. I'll get him." He tried to leave, but she held him there. Not with her fingers. He could've broken her physical grip, but his emotions were raw, like fresh scabs. They lay beneath her fingers, too. If she picked at them, they'd bleed.

"I do want Michael to suffer," she said, "but I'm more important."

"Huh?"

"Steven, this isn't about stupid Michael."

"What isn't?"

Her hands slipped to his wrists, and she squeezed them. "This. You … and me."

"Bullshit." Pain swelled in his guts, and he shut his eyes against it. It was an old affliction, not physical but an existential disorder. His parents leaving him—at the mall, altogether. His uncle Chet going to prison. … Jackie wasn't his. Would never be his, just like love. He was incapable of holding onto it, but like a fool he kept trying.

Jackie's touch disappeared from his skin, and a few seconds later Kelso groaned loudly. "That should keep him," she said.

Hyde's eyes popped open. Kelso was crying, still crumpled in the snow. "You kicked him again?"

"Yeah, and if you don't follow me, you'll get some of this, too." She swung her foot out. "Understand?"

"I don't respond well to threats, Jackie."

"Then I'll just go where I'm going—and if you have any feelings for me at all, you'll meet me there."

She walked around Kelso, whose moans were so pathetic that Hyde cringed in sympathy. She vanished behind the ice shack, and he gazed at the footprints she'd left in the snow. He wouldn't let himself get screwed over, not by her. But enough doubt remained that his boots turned her footprints into bigger ones.


	4. Part IV

**Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show _copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

ONE DIFFERENCE:  
**HYDE GOES TO KELSO'S ICE SHACK**

**Part IV**

Steven's footsteps reached Jackie's senses first. His boots crunched in the snow, and she held her breath. He'd actually followed her. They'd have privacy behind the ice shack but not for long. She had to act quickly.

"Can you hear me?" she whispered when he was reasonably close.

"Barely."

"I don't want Michael to hear us."

"Hear us doin' what?"

"Doing anything. Steven, you care about me."

He stopped a few feet away from her. His arms dangled limply at his sides. His hands were red from the cold, just like hers were, but he didn't make any moves to warm them up. He also didn't respond to her statement.

She gazed at the surrounding mountains, at the pine trees dotting the snowy rock. "When the van began to shake," she said, "Michael—as always—thought only of his own survival . He ran out without even a backwards glance. You made sure I was safe."

"Yeah, so?"

"Fez helps me only when he thinks it'll get him something."

"True enough."

"You help me without expecting diamonds at the end of the rainbow, even when it puts you in danger."

"Again, so?" He cupped the back of his neck and rubbed. He was nervous—because she was striking a nerve? Or because he simply didn't want to be alone with her?

"Fez wants to use me," she said, "though it's disguised as genuine affection." Her voice was a fast whisper. Their time was dissolving away. "His so-called love is conditional, and Michael's all about himself. I'm convenient for him, but you—"

"Jackie, I get it. You're feelin' gratitude." He put up both his hands and swept them in opposite directions, as if wiping the air clean. "_De nada._"

"No, gratitude is where I write you a check and never think about you again. I haven't stopped thinking about you since our date." She raised her eyes toward the darkening sky and laughed. "Believe me, Steven, I've tried. Even today, I tried … and if you can't understand what I'm getting at, then I'll keep on trying."

"Looks to me like Kelso's the one you can't stop thinkin' about." He crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his hands in his armpits. That didn't seem to warm him up, though. He began marching in place, too.

She sighed. Was he being purposefully dense? "Okay, do you remember career day? When I worked with Mr. Forman on Eric's car?"

A smile, as slight as it was brief, graced his lips. He remembered.

"Well," she continued, "I told him that my dad promised me a Mustang for my birthday, but Mr. Forman said I should get a Firebird instead. That the Mustang's front end is problematic..."

Her lips were cold and growing chapped from the dry air. She licked them, but her saliva evaporated quickly, making them even colder. "I pretended to listen, but I still intended to get a Mustang. Of course, my sixteenth birthday arrived and no car, but that's another story."

Steven peered around the side of the ice shack, like he was eager for the conversation to be disrupted. "What's this got to do with—"

"Shush! It'll all make sense in a second." She licked her lips again, this time feeling for flaky skin. None, but the texture was rougher than she liked. She could've used some of Donna's ChapStick. "I did some research into Mustangs and Firebirds, and I learned Mr. Forman was right. The current models don't handle engine weight well. It just took me a while to find out. Are you getting it now?"

Steven shrugged, and she sagged against the back of the ice shack. She was growing tired. "Michael's the Mustang, and you're the Firebird, and during our kiss..." she patted her heart, "this had gone numb. It was overwhelmed, but after a few days..."

All ten of her icy fingers tangled in one another. She glanced down at them, no longer able to bare Steven's face. Even amid his confusion, even behind his sunglasses, his face opened her up to a vulnerability she couldn't tolerate. It dwelled in unexplored places of her soul—and she had to shut herself down.

"You care about me," she said, "but it's not personal. You would have protected anyone else the same way. _De nada _is right, I guess..." She pushed herself from the ice shack. The walk back to Point Place was going to feel interminable. The promise of the day, of this moment with Steven, had turned to sludge.

All promises seemed to do that lately, get sucked into the sewers. Her father had reneged on his promise to get her a car. _Next year, kitten, _he'd said, but his presents were growing few and far between. If she were ever going to get that Firebird, she'd have to buy it herself … just like she had to go after Steven. Blatantly.

This was her last opportunity. He'd followed her behind the ice shack for a reason. If he rejected her, she still had that long walk home to sew up her heart.

"_De tout,_" she said, even as the ice shack's door creaked open. Donna, Eric, and Fez were ready to leave, but Michael's injured 'nads might buy her some time. "It's everything you are, Steven, that I care about. I'd list it, but you told me once you don't like lists."

She held her breath again, waiting for him to laugh, but laughter didn't come.

"_De tout? _That's not the kind of French I speak."He uncrossed his arms. They didn't go limp but had life in them, and he stepped closer to her. "You still cold?"

"Very."

His hands landed on her shoulders lightly. They slid down her arms then back up. The friction created heat, and she wanted to give into it. But he was wily and always willing to burn. She'd faked out Michael similarly a few minutes ago.

"Better?" he said.

"A little," but her toes scrunched in her shoes. She needed this to be real.

He grasped her right hand then rubbed it between his palms. "How's that?"

"I'm starting to feel my fingers again."

"Good." He took her left hand and gave it the same treatment. "Gotta have the blood flowin' when I kiss you."

"Wh—what?"

"Can't have you feelin' nothing this time."

"Don't—" She yanked her hands from him. "If you want to hurt me, find another way."

"Jackie, I don't wanna hurt you..." He cradled the side of her face. "I wanna kiss you."

Her cheek was growing hot where he touched it. She could barely breathe, but she said, "And—and then what? You'll walk away?"

"Will you?"

"Find another way to hurt me, Steven." Her vision had grown blurry. A few tears spilled from her eyes. She'd tried to keep them from falling, but they slid down her cheek and onto his hand. "Don't make me hate you."

"Thought you already did." His eyes, lighter and bluer than the sky above, tunneled straight into her heart. His sunglasses were off, put somewhere she couldn't see. "But I got no plans of walkin' away," he whispered. Both his hands were heating her cheeks now. The connection between their flesh had become stronger than the frigid air. "This is as personal as it gets."

His thumbs swept tenderly over her ears. He leaned in, and his mouth brushed over lips—but that was where he stopped.

Their friends' muffled voices were getting louder. They'd be here in moments, but the corners of her mouth were tingling. They relayed the signal down her spine, and her heart pounded blood to the deepest recesses of her body..She balled her hands into fists as her lips parted, and she repeated, "Don't make me hate you."

"Got no plans..." His breath warmed her face and smelled faintly like peppermint.

She opened her mouth a little wider, and he pressed his own mouth against it. His lips tasted like peppermint, too, and she grabbed onto his wool coat. _Don't hurt me. _The words swirled through her mind as the kiss deepened, as their tongues eventually met. _Please, don't hurt me._

He cupped the back of her head and kept an arm around her back. His physical support was welcome. Her legs were becoming as insubstantial as snowflakes. She'd been kissed many times in her life, but none had ever felt like this.

Her nerve-endings were firing in a synchronous dance. Powerful sensations rolled forth, as thrilling as they were reassuring. The movement of his mouth wasn't impersonal at all. Emotion passed through it, and the muscles of her body tensed in the most enjoyable of ways.

She tightened her grip on his coat. He was kissing her into euphoria. A few more seconds, and she'd be there. Newborn trust bloomed through her consciousness like crocuses through snow. She did love him, but a discordant voice pulled his lips from her: "Jackie? Oh, my God—!"

It was followed by others:

"Gross!"

"Why, God, why?"

"You're dead!"

The last belonged to Michael. His hands wrenched Steven's whole body from her, and he wrestled Steven to snowy ground. Jackie smashed her foot into Michael's back, but it had no effect.

"Kelso, make room!" Fez shouted. "Let me in, you sonuvabitch!" He dashed forward, but Eric got in his path.

"Hold on, Fez—hold on!"

Fez didn't listen. He tried to give Eric the slip, but Eric matched his every move.

"Get off me, you big load!" Steven said and shoved his knee into Michael's stomach. Michael let out a grunt—he was stunned—and Donna dragged him from Steven's body.

"Calm down, Kelso!" she said, but he struggled against her. She put him into a headlock, one he couldn't get out of, and Jackie was grateful. Donna's Amazonian hands weren't much to look at, but at least they were strong.

Steven got to his feet and straightened out his coat. His jeans were wet from the snow, and Jackie rushed to him. "Are you okay?" she said and looked him over. His face didn't seem bruised, but maybe Michael had injured him below the neck.

"I'm fine..." He squeezed her hand then turned to Michael. "What the hell was that, man?"

"You were kissing my girl!" Michael said with some difficulty. His head was sandwiched between Donna's arms. "You're my oldest friend, and you stabbed me in the back!"

"Do you freakin' hear yourself?" Steven was yelling, a rare occurrence. "You gave up all rights to her the second you nailed Laurie. Man, you fooled around with Laurie three damn days ago!"

"We've been over this, Hyde. That's ancient history!" Kelso fought to free himself, but Donna's grip was solid. "I didn't break any code by nailing Eric's sister—"

"Actually, you did, buddy," Eric said."You broke the thou-shall-not-screw-thy-friend's-sister commandment." He was no longer holding Fez back. He no longer had to. Fez was pacing a small circle in the snow and muttering to himself.

"Worse than that," Donna said and shook Kelso a little, "you broke Jackie's heart by cheating on her. She has every right to date whoever she wants, no matter how … unsettling her choice might be."

"Thank you, Donna." Blood burned in Jackie's cheeks. She was standing back, away from Steven, away from everything. This was not how she imagined the situation to go down. She hadn't imagined anything, really, because her thoughts hadn't gotten that far.

She inhaled a freezing breath, and ice seemed to coat her ribs. Were she and Steven together now? Or had he been playing her, after all?

"'You should've let her get arrested for that pot,'" Steven said, repeating what Michael had told him earlier. "'You should've let Chip manhandle her so she'd see how bad she had it without me.' Sound familiar?"

Eric's lips curved downward. "Kelso, you said that?"

"Well—"

"Yes, he said it," Jackie said and strode toward Michael. He was safely restrained by Donna, so Jackie felt comfortable enough to get in his face. "I'm not in love with you anymore, Michael. Being a selfish prick is not how you keep a woman's heart."

She strode to Fez next, who was still walking in snowy circles. "Fez, when you actually fall in love with a girl, don't treat her like she owes you something."

He finally stopped pacing. He opened his mouth to speak, but she continued. "And if she's cold, give her your jacket because you want to warm her up, not because you want a reward."

"Wow, Jackie," Donna said, "that was impressive. Guess all you needed was to suck on Hyde's tongue for your brain to kick in."

"Donna, don't be vulgar." Jackie pointed across the frozen lake to the snow-covered road. "Is that the way home?"

"One and only." Donna released Michael, and he dropped to the ground. He coughed a little but appeared to recover quickly. "I'm keeping an eye on you, Kelso," she said. "If you don't want to be used as a toboggan, behave yourself."

Jackie didn't wait to hear his response. She walked briskly toward the road. Her cheeks were still burning, but the rest of her had grown numb.

The wind buffeted her hair as the walk became a sprint. Her pace had quickened on its own, driven by her subconscious. No more frozen lakes. Regardless how thick the ice seemed, it could always crack.

* * *

Snow flew up around Hyde's boots as he chased Jackie across the frozen lake. She was running away— from him, from Kelso, from whatever else was scaring her. He knew scared. Going back to his apartment tonight, the thought of it kicked up more fear than he'd ever admit aloud. He'd have to compact his rage at Bud. Stomp on it with his mind until no other emotion existed either. And after that kiss with Jackie, he sure as hell didn't want to quit feeling.

"Hey, Jackie, wait up!"

She glanced back but didn't stop running.

"Jackie, come on, man. We got some crap to talk about..." he caught up with her, "don't ya think?"

"Do we?"

His stomach dropped, and his pace slowed. Maybe she'd felt nothing during their latest kiss. But the heated movement of her mouth, her pleasant little moans, how she'd clung to him as if she'd fall into the lake—didn't seem like nothing to him. "Were you fakin' with me?"

"Of course not." Her cheeks were flushed from the cold and the effort of running—and maybe him. His hands ached to warm them up. "Were you faking with _me?_" she said.

"Would I be here?"

"I don't know."

"I'm not the one walkin' away."

She stopped running, and he sped past her a few steps. He backtracked. Tears were shining on her face like ice crystals. "Why _are _you following me?"

"'Cause whatever this is," he gestured between them, "I think we should give it a shot."

"I'm not reaching out for something that'll crumble in my hands, Steven." She wiped the tears from her skin and began walking. "You do flings. I do relationships. It's how I'm built, and if I were ever to have a fling, it wouldn't be with you."

He matched her pace and shoved his hands in his coat pockets. The urge to touch her, to give reassurance physically was growing, but she hadn't given him permission. "Why?"

"Flings are forgettable. You're not." She looked over her shoulder. Their friends' were a good distance behind them, but their voices sounded closer. She probably thought they were gossiping about her, and maybe they were. "If I don't have you," she said, "I won't lose you. Tell me you understand that."

"Better than you think." That was his basic mode of operation: couldn't lose what he didn't have. His lack of ambition stemmed from it. Aiming low meant he'd rarely be disappointed with his lot in life. "I don't expect much—from anything. And if I do expect somethin', it's that it'll blow up in my fucking face. That enough understanding for ya?"

She turned toward him, and a fire blazed in her eyes he hadn't seen in too long. "So we're both cowards."

"I'd say we're pain-aversive."

"I didn't bring a dictionary with me, Steven, so I'll stick with 'coward'."

"Call it whatever you want, but..." he reached for her hand—his self-control was slipping—but she let him hold it, "I'm willin' to risk some pain."

She curled her fingers around his palm, each one pressing into it at different intervals. "How much?"

He blew out an audible breath. White smoke floated into the air then vanished. "You're fishing for somethin'."

"Fine, I'll be blunt." She stopped them both from walking and grasped his other hand. "How do you feel about me?"

He cleared his throat, but his voice had temporarily evaporated. If she wanted a declaration of love, she could forget it. That word was never coming out of his mouth, no matter how he felt. "I'm not the guy who can tell you those kinds of things, Jackie."

She pushed his hands away from her and broke into another run. She'd reach the road soon, where they'd have to stop and wait for their friends. He was screwing this up, big-time. He had a limited window to get through to her. She was vulnerable, but the last time he opened himself up to a chick, she chose a different guy.

That girl had been an ideal he couldn't capture, the same as Jackie had idealized him. But along the way, she'd slipped past his defenses and crawled between his ribs. It made him sick, but being without her was easily becoming worse.

"I wanna be with you," he said, matching her pace, "all right? It's probably a mistake, but I can't help it. There's nothin' logical here. It's gut-driven..." He grasped her wrist and slowed them down. "See how the sky's gettin' darker?"

"So what?"

"Sky doesn't seem that dark to me … 'cause you're here."

Her expression blanked out. All traces of anger faded from her eyes, but was she getting his meaning or succumbing to indifference?

He rubbed his thumb over her wrist, hoping to convey what his words couldn't. "I told you I'm no good at this corny shit—"

Her face finally softened. A quiet, "Steven..." left her mouth, and she eased herself into her arms. He wasn't used to hugging—not just her but_ anyone—_and he held her somewhat awkwardly. But her presence in his arms wasn't unwelcome. In fact, it felt better than anything had in weeks.

He shut his eyes, and his lips swept over the top of her head. He was tempted to kiss her hair, but he wasn't there yet. Instead, he said, "So … you wanna try out this dating-thing?"

"Mm-hmm."

His arms tightened around her. "Cool."

"But we have to be exclusive." She pushed against his chest a little, and he loosened the embrace. "And not how Michael was 'exclusive'." She peered up at him with fear hollowing her features. "Steven, if you so much as kiss another girl while we're dating—"

"You got nothin' to worry about. Wouldn't consider datin' you if I wanted to be with other chicks." He buried his hand in her hair, both for warmth and to soothe her. "When I do a 'fling,' the girl knows it upfront … and you've been through enough."

"Oh … wow." She settled back against his body, and her hands locked at the small of his back. "You've got nothing to worry about either." Their friends voices were growing louder, but he drowned them out by focusing on hers. "Fez was never a real option, and Michael was my backup."

"Your backup?"

"My popularity has certain requirements. One is to have a gorgeous boyfriend, but being miserable with Michael just isn't worth it."

"Yeah, we're gonna work on your value system." His other hand slid up her back and into her hair. He let himself kiss the top her head this time, and she sighed deeply. "You deserve a helluva lot better than what you've been givin' yourself."

Her breath stalled, but if she had another response, he didn't get to hear it. Their friends had caught up with them.

"_Gross!_" Forman said.

Hyde glanced over his shoulder and quirked up an eyebrow. "Might wanna come up with somethin' more clever than that 'cause me and Jackie are gonna be together a while."

Jackie squeezed his waist, as if she approved of his statement. Then she let go of him, and their embrace became a holding of hands.

Forman shook his head at the sight. "I gotta ask my mom if they make a pill for nausea."

"Eric, think of it like this," Donna said, "with Hyde being so sweet to Jackie, you'll finally have burn opportunities against him."

"My God, Donna..." a broad grin had replaced Forman's disgust, "you're right!"

Kelso and Fez, meanwhile, had snatched up handfuls of snow. They were making snowballs, but Kelso's looked particularly icy. If he tossed that thing anywhere near Jackie...

"Fez, man," Hyde said, "Kelso told me your ding-dong looks like it's got perpetual shrinkage from the cold."

"What?" Fez's eyes widened. Then he grabbed the waistband of Kelso's beltless jeans and dumped his snowball into them.

"Holy sh—!" Kelso dropped his ice ball to the ground, where it smashed to pieces. He unzipped his jeans, and Fez's collapsed snowball spilled out.

That was too easy, and Hyde turned away from them. He and Jackie stepped off the frozen lake together. They'd reached the snow-blanketed road, but Fez shouted a question at their backs: "Why Hyde, Jackie? Why not Fez?"

Jackie didn't answer. She glided her arm around Hyde's back and snuggled into him as they walked. It felt better than he had any right to feel, but he held her protectively with his hand resting on her hip.

"How far do you think the service station is from here?" she said.

"Too far, but we'll make it." Gooseflesh rose on his arms as he spoke—because the same could've been said for their relationship. Success seemed far off, but maybe they'd make it, too..


	5. Part V

**Disclaimer:** _That '70s Show _copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

ONE DIFFERENCE:  
**HYDE GOES TO KELSO'S ICE SHACK**

**Part V**

Walking down the mountain with Jackie wasn't an unpleasant experience. Hyde had expected some aggravation and boredom, but she didn't complain about the hike. She didn't talk about her hair or clothing, either. Mostly, she didn't talk at all, except to burn their friends. She and Hyde had dropped to the back of the group for privacy, but some of their friends' conversation traveled.

"Still can't believe Hyde..." Forman said, but distance swallowed the rest of his sentence.

"Stop talking about us!" Jackie shouted. "You should be more concerned about your small pecker!" That was the pattern. Seven or ten minutes of silence, then Forman or Fez would say, "Hyde" or "Jackie," and Jackie would let the burn loose.

She was on edge, and with the sun sinking lower and the air growing colder, Hyde had nothing but sympathy. Fortunately, cars weren't an issue on the road. No one was driving out here. They had a free but long path to the service station. Five miles, Donna had said. Then they'd start calling parents.

The Vista Cruiser would probably be their clunky chariot home. If not, they'd all have to squish into Bob's Eldorado or leave Kelso at the service station, which would be fine with Hyde.

Their last viable resort was Jackie's mother, but, "We'd be lucky to get the cook," Jackie said at the two-mile mark. The Burkharts' housekeeper usually had the weekends off, and their weekend cook wouldn't be at the house until after sunset. "Daddy's on a business trip, and my mom won't be home until dinner... " She looped her arms around one of Hyde's and shivered. "Unless she goes out to dinner with her friends—which she usually does on Saturdays when Daddy isn't home."

Hyde sighed through his nose. Jackie's homelife was far from the spoiled, over-loved, over-sheltered environment he'd always assumed it was. Being rich didn't necessarily make a family happy and healthy. People had to do that job themselves. If a million bucks fell into Bud's lap, he'd gamble it all away by sunrise. If it fell into Hyde's lap, he'd buy his own place the second he turned eighteen.

"What's wrong?" Jackie peered up at him with wide, compassionate eyes. "You're upset about something."

"I don't get 'upset'. I get pissed." But his words sounded flimsy. Her x-ray eyes had already seen past his defenses. "It's got nothin' to do with you. Don't worry about it."

"Great! So tell me." She pressed her chin into his arm, her face full of empathy. _Damn it. _This girl could draw his deepest secrets from him if he wasn't careful. "I've had a whole day of me," she said. "Well, Michael and Fez _pretending_ to be about me, but they were really about themselves and what _they _wanted. I'm sick of being the center of attention, fake or otherwise."

He raised both his eyebrows, and a tight grin held back his laughter. She was sick of being the center of attention? Never thought he'd see the day.

She shook his arm a little. "Don't get used to it. I'll be back to focusing on what's important tomorrow, but right now I want to hear what's pissing you off."

He looked away from her. Forman was a good two yards ahead. He was the first person Hyde would go to about his crap, but he'd done enough of that.

"Steven, please..." Jackie squeezed his arm this time, "let me help you, like you've helped me."

Hyde never would have considered it before today. Jackie had a big gossipy mouth, but if she sabotaged their relationship, at least it would happen early. "Bud." His voice was rough, as if he hadn't spoken in days. "He's, uh … he's gotten into gambling."

"How bad?"

"Bad."

"How much does he owe?"

"Got no idea." He used his free hand to scratch the back of his neck. His nails dug into the skin until it burned, but transforming his emotional pain into something physical allowed him to keep talking. "I'm payin' most of the rent and grocery bills."

"Would a thousand dollars get your dad out of debt?"

Her question smacked him full-on in the face. He hadn't considered Bud being in debt, but it was a safe guess.

"Two-thousand dollars?" She released his arm and reached for his hand, the one scratching his neck. "I could cash in a savings bond—"

"Whoa, whoa, Jackie—that's not happening." But he let her take his hand, and she put it to her lips. She kissed his cold skin, and her warm breath blew over it. Then she laid her cheek on top of his knuckles. Part of him wanted to shrink away, not from her affection but his desire for it. "Bud asks me for 'loans,'" he said, "but he never pays 'em back."

"You're right. Giving your deadbeat dad money won't help," she kissed the back of his hand again before letting go, "so I'll write _you_ a check. How much is your rent a month?"

Hyde stopped them from walking. He cradled the sides of her face and gave her a peck to the lips. "Appreciate the offer, but cutting checks won't solve my problem."

"As spoken like a poor person," she said, but sadness flickered in her eyes. It was too much for him to take, so he grasped her palm, and they continued on their way. "Steven, money can solve almost any problem."

"Not mine. Bud's an addict, man. It's who he is."

"Even addicts can change … if given the right motivation."

Jackie grew silent for a while, and Hyde bit down his curiosity. Her tone had indicated something deeper than naïve idealism. What lay underneath?

"My uncle, Bill," she shared eventually, close to the three-mile mark. "My mom's older brother. He was a gambler just like your dad, but he didn't throw dice in back alleys. We're talking big money here, Steven." She nodded at her own words, maybe at her memories, and he spotted a maturity—an adultness—he hadn't recognized before. "Daddy put a stop to it. He hired a few 'associates' to scare my uncle into Gambler's Anonymous. And, believe me, their tactics would work on your dad, too."

Hyde's eyes fixed on Jackie's face, and he imagined scooping her into his arms and kissing her until they collapsed in delirious exhaustion. He must've looked like a moron because she cupped his chin and said, "Are you having an aneurysm?"

"Could be." Blood vessels had to be bursting in his brain. She'd given him a personal piece of herself, unasked for, but its value was immeasurable. Kelso had never spilled this side of her … because she'd kept it to herself. Hyperbolic versions of their sex life, her favorite hair-care products, and stupid cheerleader gossip—Kelso spouted it all in the circle. If she'd given him any real secrets, they would've been offered up as a sacrifice to the stash.

"You really wanna help me, huh?" he said in a daze. Chemicals were firing. Blood was rushing where it didn't belong, not right now. Emotion had combined with physical need, a phenomenon beyond his experience. "If you wanna help, chuck some snow at me."

"What?"

"Just throw some snow at me, man."

"You're crazy."

"Close to it."

Jackie had no clue what she was doing to him, and he released her hand. He needed to quit touching her.

"Come on, Steven." She reached for him, but he sidestepped her grasp. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Nope."

Forman and the rest of their friends were up ahead. Before, the distance felt too close. Now it seemed interminable. Maybe if he and Jackie had company, three deadly words wouldn't be crawling up his throat.

And the statement _was_ lethal. It would set off a series of events that would destroy him and Jackie both.  
He swallowed, and his eyes searched for help—a distraction—but the pine trees lining the road offered none. They were stiff, silent witnesses to his struggle. Jackie cared about him. Jackie freakin' Burkhart. She'd made herself vulnerable, tried to put them on equal footing. She was willing to be his partner through whatever crap he had going on. Only Forman had ever gone that far, and they'd watched out for each other since they were six.

"Is this it?" Jackie said, and his gaze rose to her. He'd been staring at his boots, the impressions they made in the snow. "Over before we really started … because I said the wrong thing?"

"Shit." He'd wandered to the side of the road, putting significant distance between them. He closed the gap, but she wouldn't look at him. "Jackie, you didn't say the wrong thing, okay?"

He'd been the one about to say the wrong thing. At the wrong time. At the wrong place … but to the right person. They'd barely begun, but within less than an hour, he was already becoming someone else. Someone who could possibly, one day, tell his girl he loved her.

"This sitch with Bud's got me wound up is all." He touched her back, and she didn't shrink away. "It's got nothin' to do with you, all right? And I appreciate the offer to break his legs, but even if Bud quit gamblin', he'd just switch addictions again. Maybe go back to drinking."

His words dried up, and Jackie's eyes finally locked on him. She was waiting for him to continue. Normally, he wouldn't oblige. This wasn't a conversation he enjoyed having, but she'd balanced on a cliff's edge for him. He couldn't let her stand there alone.

"My dad needs serious help, man," he said. Just like his mom did, just like he himself would if he didn't cut back on his own drinking. "But nothing's more important to him than numbing himself out."

"What about you? You're his son."

He laughed, a scratchy and sour kind of laugh. "That doesn't mean shit."

"It should." The back of her hand grazed his knuckles. Her skin was colder than his, and he raised her hand to his lips. His impulse was to kiss her fingers, a return the tenderness she'd given him earlier, but he blew warm air on them instead. "My dad's not around a lot," she said, "but he's working hard to support our family. We're accustomed to a certain lifestyle, and I think..."

Her speech seemed to turn to smoke, but then she said, "I think it gets to him sometimes, the pressure. If he'd actually show up to my next birthday party, I wouldn't care about the car all that much..."

Another hole cut into the ice, revealing the liquid truth beneath. He fought the compulsion to cover it with his own body, to protect her. She didn't need her wounds to be suffocated. She needed a safe place to bleed.

"Anyway," she flipped her hair over her shoulder, as if tossing her thoughts away, "the least your dad could do is pay the rent."

"Hey, you're talkin' about the guy who was back in Point Place for a year and didn't even try to contact me." His free hand balled into a fist. He unclenched it and shoved it into his coat pocket. Anger had seeped into his body. He rarely let that happen, but being around Jackie did strange things to his self-control. "Our first 'father-son' night out, he boozed me up and brought me to a nudie bar."

"Okay, why do you sound mad?" she said. "You love booze and nudie bars."

Another scratchy laugh escaped him. "Think about it. I went to him all pissed off about how he'd left, how he'd exchanged blood for alcohol, how he'd screwed me over … didn't fuckin' faze him at all, man. Called him an asshole, and he agreed, like it was some kinda joke. Then he offered me a damn beer, and I took it 'cause _I'm_ an asshole."

His stomach flattened, pressed into his intestines. He'd never admitted this crap to anyone. Never imagined confessing it to Jackie. His fingers loosened in her hand. He braced himself for a pity parade, but she said, "He also offered you strippers."

"And those." His need for distance was growing again. Had nothing to do with her, but she'd take it that way, so he stayed put.

She began to say something, but the wind kicked up. Must have choked her silent, just as it made him cough. The forceful, frigid air cut through his coat, and she sheltered herself in his body.

"Don't go back to him," he said while holding her. He spoke into her hair, both for comfort and to keep his throat from freezing. "Even if this doesn't work out between us, don't go back to Kelso."

"I—I won't."

Another gust of wind buffeted them, and his arms tightened around her. Were Forman and Donna holding onto each other, too? The icy air sliced his hands, but his body wasn't frozen thanks to Jackie. Being in a relationship … maybe it didn't have to turn to shit like his parents' had.

"You need to move out," she said once the wind died down.

"Don't disagree..." but his flattened stomach shriveled to a raisin. "Problem is, where would I go?"

* * *

Where would Steven go? Jackie gestured toward Eric's back. "_Duh._"

A puff of white smoke obscured Steven's face. He'd blown out a breath, meaning her suggestion wasn't a winner for him, but his future was on the line. The elements of his life were like snow on a mountain side. If he didn't act soon, it would all come down in an avalanche and bury him.

But that disaster could be avoided. All she had to do was go up to Eric herself. Tell him what Steven was going through, and he'd take care of the rest. That would put her future with Steven at risk, but his own future was worth it.

"Your dad needs consequences for his actions," she said, "just like Michael does." Her fingers glided into the spaces between Steven's, and the warmth between their palms grew hotter. She adored holding hands with him, especially now that he wasn't pulling away. "Otherwise, they'll never stop doing what they do. Maybe by Michael losing me, he won't be such a dog with his next serious girlfriend."

"Or he'll just get sneakier." Steven ran his thumb over the top of her hand, and pleasing shivers rippled up her arm. "I should've told you what he was doing. If I'd known you were..."

He stopped talking. His half-spoken confession was intriguing—and _aggravating—_but she was losing focus. Maybe he was trying to distract her.

"_And by you moving out,_" she said, forcing her thoughts to stay in order, "by you leaving your dad the way he left you, maybe he'll reevaluate what's important to him. Even if not, you'll be safe with the Formans."

The sky had darkened considerably since they left the ice shack, but Steven's face was still visible. A grin slid across it, and he put his arm around her shoulders. She cuddled into him as they continued to walk, but what was he thinking? Had her words soaked in at all?

"Man, if I'd known you were like this," he gave her shoulders a little squeeze, "I wouldn't have been such a dick."

"What do you mean?"

"See Kelso and Fez up there?"

"Barely. Donna's lumberjack physique is blocking them."

"They tore off a few branches, and they're whackin' each other with 'em."

"Really?" She got on her tiptoes, but she was still too short.

"Here..." His arm slipped off her shoulders. Then he stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her hips. He raised her into the air, at least a foot-and-a-half taller than she was, and she saw them. Michael and Fez were hitting each other with pine branches. Snow flew off the needles, and neither Donna nor Eric seemed concerned by the fight.

"So they're idiots," she said. "So what?"

Steven put her down, and his arm returned to her shoulders. "That's what I was doin' to you and Kelso," he said. "Part of me wanted Kelso to get caught, so I set him up. But I also wanted to prolong his suffering, so I never told you the straight shit. I hinted at it, provoked you … but it wasn't enough."

"Vanstock." The word floated from her mouth. "You were so eager to have me go along … because you knew. You knew he was sleeping with Laurie. And you—_Three's Company, _Steven?" She hit stomach, and he let out a quiet grunt. "What's wrong with you?" On that trip, he'd led her and Laurie in a rendition of the _Three's Company _theme song.

"Thought I'd get this crap out in the open. You gotta know who you're dealing with. I enjoyed messin' with both of you."

"That was before you went to jail for me," she said.

"Yeah."

"Before you punched that jerk Chip."

"Yup."

"Before you admitted what you just admitted."

His fingers tapped a quick beat on her upper arm. "Guess so."

"I know who I'm dealing with." One of her arms was slung around his back, and she managed to stick her hand into his coat pocket. "So ... what am I like, Steven?" She fluttered her eyelashes and pursed her lips a little. It was a look she'd practiced in the mirror countless times. She called it _mild seduction._

"A lot more complex than I ever gave you credit for," he said.

"And?"

"And what?"

"What else? Give me specifics."

"No."

"Steven!" She punched his hip through his coat pocket. "We're going to work on your romance skills."

"Oh, we are, are we?" He leaned in and kissed her—far more than a peck—and the tingling inside her mouth buzzed through her whole body. "Yeah, think I've got that covered."

"Romance isn't just Frenching." She was trying to act annoyed but failed spectacularly. A dreamy smile had conquered her face. God, that boy could kiss. "But it's a very good start."

He gazed at her smugly and stroked the side of her face. "Don't gotta tell me." Then his smugness softened, into an expression she couldn't quite characterize. "Gonna get the ball rollin' on somethin' else, too."

Their pace quickened. He was leading her up the snowy road, toward, their friends. "Hey, Forman," he said, and Eric glanced back at them. Revulsion flickered in his eyes, snarled his lips. Steven must have seen it because he said, "Ask your mom about those nausea meds 'cause I'm movin' back in."

"What?" Eric and Donna's arms were entwined, but Eric whispered something in her ear. They separated, and she joined Michael and Fez farther up ahead.

"Okay, so..." Eric fell back to Steven's side. He'd grown paler than usual and had begun to shiver. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Y—yeah, what happened?"

"I bet on the wrong horse," Steven said.

"And his dad bets on horses," Jackie said.

Steven's arm grew stiff on her shoulders. She'd messed up. He probably wanted to handle this his own way, make up some weird story, but Eric was concerned and freezing. In other circumstances, she'd enjoy watching him suffer, but not today. Even if it meant damaging her standing with Steven.

His arm fell away from her, and she shuddered at the warmth he took with him. Then his fingers curled around her hand. His touch was gentle, soothing. In a heartbeat, he'd forgiven her.

"Found betting slips on him this morning..." he said, and Eric listened while he told him the story.

His words became a comforting thrum as Jackie marveled at today's events. She'd influenced him—no, they'd influenced each other—to change. In just an hour. She'd laid herself bare to him, in a fashion she'd never done with Michael, and he'd opened himself up to her in return.

Influence without manipulation or coercion. It was a power she wasn't used to, and they'd have to wield it carefully.

"Yeah, man," Eric said after Steven was done, "of course you can move back in. In fact, my mom keeps refreshing your sheets every week 'just in case'. And Red bought a twelve-pack of I Like Worms and put in the deep-freeze."

"Uh..." Steven scratched his cheek, "I'm the only one 'round here who likes cherry pop."

"See my point?" Eric poked him in the shoulder. "My folks'll be thrilled having you back in the house, and the best part of this? You'll get to do half my chores again."

"Super." Steven was scowling, but Jackie knew he didn't mean it. She hugged his waist, and he hugged her back, half-distracted. Then his lips pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. That was the second time he'd done that, and she reveled in his affection. He was going to be a great boyfriend ... once he had a little more training.

She nestled her cheek against his chest and silently thanked God for finally being clear. Steven was embracing her fully now. His hands had locked firmly around her back, but their hug was cut short. Donna was dashing toward them. Snow flew up around her boots, and two brown jackets were in her hands. They trailed behind her like banners, but she shoved them at Eric.

"Quick, take these!" she said then kept herself in front of him.

"Why?" Eric said, but the answer became evident. Michael and Fez were running toward them, jacket-less.

"They were getting too nosy." Donna snatched the jackets back from Eric. She tossed them to the ground, and her boots kicked snow over them. "And too grabby. Kelso pinched my freakin' ass while Fez went for my boob—but all Fez got was an elbow to the neck."

Jackie giggled and hid her face in Steven's arm.

"It's not funny, Jackie!" Donna said.

"No, it isn't funny at all," Fez said. He and Michael had reached them. "All we wanted is a little action, and she stole our jackets!"

Eric pushed himself in front of Donna. "So you went after my girlfriend?"

"Does anyone really _have_ a girlfriend, Eric?" Michael said. "Why do we put labels on everything?"

"Because she's _my girlfriend!_"

"Well, we can't go after Jackie anymore!" Fez waved in Jackie's direction. "She's Hyde's girlfriend now, and if we try anything, he'll kill us."

"That's right." Steven tightened his arm around Jackie's back, and she liked it.

"And I won't?" Eric said.

"Oh, you'll try," Michael said, "but you can barely cut a steak."

Eric shook his head. "That's—no. That's not—" He was trying to respond, but he didn't do well under pressure. Jackie had experienced that first-hand. It made burning him too easy.

"Dude, have you seen yourself try to cut steak?" Michael laughed. "It's hilarious."

"Yes, yes. Hilarious." Fez knelt to the ground and plucked his corduroy jacket from the snow. "Ai..."

Michael went for his jacket, too, but Donna put her boot on it. "You might not be afraid of Eric," she said, "but I'm not afraid to knock your teeth in. If either of you pull another stunt like that, you can say goodbye to chewing food."

"Might be worth it," Michael said, and Donna flashed him an _I-Dare-You _smirk. "I changed my mind." His voice cracked. "Can I have my jacket now?"

She removed her foot, and he stood up with his jacket. He flapped it around, getting snow everywhere, including Jackie's face.

"Watch it!" she shouted, and Steven brushed the stray snow from her cheek. "Thank you, baby."

"Man, she's calling him 'baby' already?" Michael put on his jacket, but he seemed half-a-foot shorter. He was slouching and shuffled in the snow as he walked.

"I know," Fez said, "and Hyde let me call Jackie his girlfriend. He's never let me call any of his whores that before."

"_Fez,_" Steven said, and Jackie expected him to deny the _girlfriend _title, especially now that Fez had made it explicit, "this is your last warning, man. Either the name 'Jackie' and the word 'whore' part ways in your mouth—or your mouth's gonna part ways with your tongue. Your choice."

"He's called me a 'whore' before?" Shock cut through Jackie's voice, but not from Fez's duplicity. Steven considered her his girlfriend. She was Steven Hyde's girlfriend. She worked the idea over in her mind, but she'd need days to process it. "When?" she said. "When did he say that?"

Steven coughed, as though he were uncomfortable with her question. "He was stoned."

"Oh." She fought the urge to fling her arms around his neck and cover him with kisses. He'd defended her honor, even when she wasn't present. "You've warned him before."

"No, I didn't," he said, too quickly.

"_Yes,_ you did. You told him that was his 'last' warning, not his first—"

He slid two fingers gently beneath her chin. "Man, if you keep pointing this shit out..." nothing threatening existed in his eyes, only affection, "you're gonna ruin my rep." His face drew close to hers. She parted her lips slightly, anticipating his kiss, but then—

"Stupid corduroy!" Fez shouted. He was stuffing his jacket into his backpack. "Why do you have to be as coated in moisture as Kelso's tongue?" They had two miles to go before they reached the service station, and he was shivering. Jackie tried to muster sympathy, but he'd put himself in this situation. Plus, he'd earned a little payback. "Kelso," he said a minute later, "I'm cold."

"I know, buddy." Michael put his arm around him. "We'll get through this together."

He could offer Fez warmth but not her? "I'm never going back to him, Steven," she whispered. "No matter what."

"Good," Steven whispered back, "'cause he just made a move on Fez."

"Fez could do better." She stopped walking, and he stopped with her.

"What's up?" he said.

A reckless impulse had taken her over, or maybe it was fear, but she had to try something. "Trust me for twenty seconds." She stepped in front of him, pulse tightening with each breath, and held both his hands. "Please?"

He swallowed but said, "Sure."

She unfastened the first three buttons of his wool coat. His dress shirt already had the first button undone, and she undid the next two. He kept blessedly silent, but her pulse pounded in her ears, her neck. She'd exposed his chest to the cold. She was potentially humiliating herself, but before her bravery withered, she laid a tender kiss over his heart.

_I love you, _she mouthed then buttoned his shirt back up.

Her fingers were stiff. She indulged in two quick flexes before starting on his coat, but he took over. "Don't know what that was," he said afterward.

She shut her eyes. "Did you hate it?"

"No."

Her eyes snapped open. He hadn't rejected her. He'd let her try a bold, silly, self-indulgent move. In the dead of winter. With gusts of frigid air hitting them, and he didn't hate it.

He loved her. He might never say it, but he did. Without trying, without wanting to, he'd won her heart—and somehow she'd won his.

"Hop on." He was crouching, as if he wanted her to climb onto his back. She did, and he carried her piggy-back style. His gate was a little rough. His muscles had to be stiff like her fingers, but his grip on her legs was firm. "Don't think you're gettin' a free ride," he said when she started giggling. "You're gonna carry me at the one-mile marker."

"I don't think so." She hid her face in his soft curls, still laughing. In little over an hour, she'd experienced more from this relationship than she ever had with Michael. And, from the way Steven was acting, he had to be enjoying himself just as much.

He kicked aside a chunk of ice but didn't lose his balance. "Sorry for the bumps," he said, but she patted his chest in appreciation.

They'd probably encounter a lot of ice chunks down the road. Get bruised, maybe even scraped. But something extraordinary existed between them. Whatever it was, she'd fight for it. Wherever their destination, she'd ride out the bumps. Because he was worth it.

They were worth it.


End file.
